Just a Girl and her car...

I am rethinking the name of this blog lately. It seems all my recent travel adventures are in my car- alone. Maybe rename the blog-- Just a Girl and Her Car? Well, I'll keep thinking on that and will keep you posted. In the meantime, here's the latest update on travel adventures and lesson- learned about living in the Pacific Northwest.

This past weekend, I thought I would take a quick trip to Bend, OR to see my old, dear friends before they go back to their summer home in Juneau, AK. Now, since I am still learning about this neck of the woods, I checked mapquest and saw that I had to drive directly through Portland, OR to get there. I have some great pals in Portland that I definately do not see often enough, so decided to break up the 6 hour drive and make some plans with them for Sunday night and into Monday (for a work date day).

The roadtrip was going well- decent weather (read: not rainy*), good tunes, and the open road. I don't know what it is about driving on an open road listening to amazing music that makes my heart so happy. I stopped for a FOFFEE**, and was delighted to see the things I was going to see once I passed through Portland (up to Portland, it's just a highway, kind of gross and not scenic). As I was approaching the area where the city gives way to trees, small towns, and countryside, the clouds were getting a little darker. And as I drove to higher elevation- the skies opened up a little with some rain and then hail. I was still not deterred- what's a little rain and hail? Really? (remember this whole mountain thing is new to me).

Then some cars were coming westbound with some snow on them- not every car but most of them. The skies were getting a little darker and the mountain that I could kind of see earlier, I could no longer see at all. At this point, there was a little feeling, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Then I passed a place that sold snow tires and chains. And then another, and another one further down the road. So, I got a little nervous and then saw the flashing sign- Chains or Snow Tires REQUIRED 6 miles ahead. Now, as a person new to this whole mountain travel thing I did wonder how important that REALLY was. There was a brief moment of pause thinking I could get through, I know how to drive in snow. Then the voice of reason kicked in and I stopped. I might have snow tires, but I should check just to be sure. I looked and had NO clue, so called the two people I just knew would know (my papa and the dude). Of course, neither picked up. Then I called two others who might know and they didn't pick up either. So, I sucked it up and went into the little store.

The men running the store were clearly annoyed by my stupidity.

Q: Who doesn't check the mountina report before heading down from Seattle? A: A girl who doesn't know there is a mountain between her and her destination (I didn't actually admit that at first.)

Q: What kind of tires do you have? A: Well, two are new. I don't know how to tell if they are snow tires or not.

Q( well, more commandment): Go and look for a little snowflake on the tire. A: OK (I checked and obvs did not have a snowflake or anything other than a serial number on the tires).

Q: What size chains do you need? A: Um, I grew up far from mountains and have lived in AZ for six years. I don't know how this works.

Tweedle Dee (nice counter guy): Let me get out there and see what we can do.

Tweedle Dum (not-so-nice counter guy): She can fiugre it out herself.

Me: Um, okay?

Dee: She's from Arizona, she needs help.

Dum: (rolling his eyes) Fine, but this is the last stupid motorist we are helping today. People should be prepared.

Me: Sir, I hear you and am sorry. My dad would be appalled that I wasn't aware of all this, but I promise next time I will know better and will be prepared or cancel the trip. Honestly, I didn't even know there was a mountain pass involved. I'm sorry.

Well, apparently, the divulgence of the lack of mountain pass knowledge was what he needed to hear because he just started to laugh and was like, "oh honey- we'll get you all set up. Don't you worry".

Really, dude? 5 minutes ago you were ready to throw me out of the store. (I really didn't say that, but wanted to).

They fitted the tires, but didn't have any in stock. Long story short: 4 stores later- no one had the right ones in stock.

By the time the adventure was over an hour at passed and there were at least 2 inches of snow had fallen! (Definately explained all the cars with snow headed westward!) I had to get the hell out of there. So, Portland became Plan B. Thanks to some good friends who work on an impromptu schedule I had an enjoyable evening and an even more enjoyable brunch (My favorite meal!).

So, the lessons learned on this one--

1- Before any trip out of the Seattle area, check for mountains and mountain passes.

2- Like any good Michigander knows--pack for all kinds of weather, even in the springtime!

3- Have a plan B in mind...just in case.

Good thing the next trip is on an airplane.

*Fun Fact (or not so much): I learned last night that of the lasy 90 days, only 20 were partly cloudy and/or fair. Yep, that means 70 days were cloudy, rainy, or stormy. Ugh! I need a reminder of why I live here again. Yikes, that is a lot of rain, cold and wet.

**Foffee is a term my friend's daughter coined when seeing her get an afternoon coffee ready. So afternoons coffees have since been known as "FOFFEE". Really, it's just fun!

Tides of Change

I don't know what it is lately, but things feel different. The things I am referring to are not tactile, but rather internal "feelings". I can't physically touch these things to know they are different. Work, friendships, me. It's not a bad thing, but it's interesting and has plagued my brain for a bit now. And then while reading my current book the protagonist (who is going through a life transition) stated this random fact: "Every 7 years we change, we readjust, we reinvent." As part of this statement he also talked about the shelf-life of a friendship and that because of the 7-year change, we lose friendships. That actually brought a tear to my eye. My life is practically made up of people that I met 7 years ago. I cannot imagine those friendships with a shelf-life. They are my sounding board, my giggle-buddy, they are "favorites". The protagonist in this book tends to be a pessimist and I have had some serious eye rolls while reading, but this struck a cord with me. Most likely because of the above-mentioned feelings that have been plaguing my brain. And while I want to disregard the statement, it has been several days and it is still with me. The more I think about it, the more the eternal optimist in me is trying to rationalize and find a new theory. And I believe I have found at least a thought-- While thinking on this, I started to think about tides of change (who knows why!), but that made me think of oceans and tide pools. (Now bear with me). Tides are a new phenomenon to me. I grew up with big water that did not ebb and flow with the stages of the moon. The water level was the same, unless there was a drought, serious rain or snowfall, but it didn't readjust itself 4X a day! So, moving to a place with oceans has opened a new door of learning to me. I am fascinated by tides and more specifically tide pools. These "pools" are the areas leftover once the tide goes out. You can find incredible treasures in these pools-- starfish, sand-dollars, clams, and array of other random, wonderful creatures. You can also find junk- from humans or just ocean waste. Everything is revealed for a short amount of time. And then the tide comes back. It fills the pools completely so they are now part of the bigger ocean rather than their own little world. The creatures can catch a wave and move to another tide pool area, the garbage is washed away. And then the tide goes back out again. That tide pool may not even be in the same place again, the creatures are different or have moved on. The garbage is gone. The optimist in me would like to think this is what the 7-year change is doing--- washing away the garbage, bringing in new creatures, or allowing me to find another pool. So, instead of fearing these tides, I am going to embrace them and hope that the new high tide will bring a hidden treasure.

Travel fun...

After a few months away from the airport, I am back to my normal travel adventures!

On a recent flight from Detroit to Seattle, I made an observation about people seated at Gates. If you really look at the group of people seated at a Gate, I think you can tell exactly where they are headed.

Here are the people that helped inspire this post--

Check them out-- it cannot get MORE classic Seattle than these two. Totally granola! And the more I looked, the better it got. Do you see her boots? How about his socks and sandals? These are the sterotypical Seattle residents. It would be unfair to say that the majority of the Seattle population looks like this, but this is what springs to mind when I think of traditional Seattle of old. These folks along with the others at the gate made it VERY evident where we were all headed. Since my flight was delayed for an addtional hour, I decided to talk a walk and make a game out of it. So, I wandered the terminal and looked at the gate people and then at where the people were flying. And 3 out of 3 times I was right! Florida was a little easy--- people in Disney apparel, shorts, flip-flops, and sun hats. New York---suit-clad people, laptops, everyone on their phones with cups of coffee in their hands. And my favorite-- New Jersey. No joke- 9 of the 10 people seated there had on sweatpants. The ladies had BIG hair and BIG make-up and fancy shoes with sweatpants. It was awesome!

I do realize this game was completely based on sterotypes and probably not very nice, but it was a fun game to play while I waited for a plane. And it didn't hurt anyone. I know I fit into the Seattle group with my fleece and Merrills. And I embrace it!

As for the rest of this travel experience, I think Karma had it out for me after my "mean" game! Once we finally got on the place, we were further delayed in the air (I didn't even know that could happen). By the time we landed, it was 2am EST and my body was ready for bed, but I needed some drama instead. It took Delta over an hour to get us our bags (I wish I was kidding!!). By the time I got my bag, I was convinced the worst flight should be over. Sadly, I was wrong. As I was getting in the cab, the cabbie almost drove off with me halfway in the cab. Seriously.

Santa is that you?

I have said this before and I will say it again, I am one of the luckiest ladies ever! Really. Throughout the last 2 and 1/2 months, I have received more love and more support than any one person deserves. In preparation for my surgery and the recovery, I got a piece of mail, an email, or some little keepsake EVERY SINGLE DAY. It was like Christmas around this place! I cannot believe the love, kindness, and support from so many of the people I love. Thank you doesn't seem to cover it. Two little words that are supposed to say so much. But that is all there is-- THANK YOU!

I truly believe the positive thoughts sent my way have made my recovery one of the best ones my surgeon has ever seen (and that is a direct quote). The only way I can say thank you will be to repay the kindness and love shown to me by doing for others what has been done for me.

THANK YOU!

Have you seen my oil can?

First, let me preface by saying--Damn, it's been awhile and I'm sorry! I follow other blogs and get annoyed when there are HUGE lapses between posts. (I know I shouldn't, but I totally do. Reading them is my favorite part of my morning "news" updates.) Anyways, sorry it's been so long--there was a surgery, the recovery, and then a work trip. And here we are. So, onto today's post**

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Do you remember the scene in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy has seen the Tin Man in the field and realizes he is trying to speak to her? Then she finds that uber convenient basket of Tin Man supplies (maybe it's just the oil can...I am not sure). Well the magic is that as soon as she oils him, he can hold a conversation normally. I am jealous. You may ask why I am jealous of the Tin Man...I want a conveniently located basket of Jessica supplies.

It's officially been 5 weeks since my jaw suregery and I am growing impatient with this recovery period. Right now, I SO wish there was an oil can to grease my jaw joints and restore them back to normal! Although the recovery is going "beautifully", I am ready to be back to normal. As others have pointed out, it's only been 5 weeks since I had a MAJOR surgery. I mean, I look like a different person (well, really a different version of myself). That kind of change requires some time to heal. And patience when it comes to my health is definately not a strength I possess. You would think it would be with all the random ailments I have due to the autoimmune disease, but alas no. I am as impatient with illness as a supreme athlete! (I don't know why but I have to assume super athletes get really annoyed when they're ill since the illness keeps them from their athletic event).

So I am going to put it out there-- if you somehow come across a basket of Jessica supplies, please send it my way. I mean, who knows, maybe my supply basket just got misplaced at or near an old address...

And if it isn't found, then good old-fashioned chewing will have to do all the "greasing" for me. Sigh.

**I have some backdated posts that I need to post in the coming days. I promise I'll get it together and post them very soon

Aunt Mugsie's I Believe List

My Aunt Mugs is one of my dad's sisters. She is my godmother and one of my all-time favorite people. My mom used to tell me how crazy she thought it was just how like her I am. She didn't live next door, but has always been part of my life. In college she lived down the street and would take us college kids out for real meals about once a month and always seemed to know just the right time for a time-out from the college scene. She has been a wonderful god-mother and an example that I am that I have had! Now, I know how to be a great godparent. Thanks, Aunt Mugs!

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I believe in God and that he sustains me through good times and bad.

I believe that Scottville was a great place to grow up.

I believe that it is okay to read magazines and newspapers for free at the bookstore as long as I buy some coffee.

I believe that we are definitely products of our parents.

I believe that it is always sunny in Kelly Shorts Stadium.

I believe that singing music by Palestrina and Bach, when the sun is streaming through the Cathedral stained glass windows, is a most sacred event.

I believe in buying cut flowers and good chocolate to mark special occasions and to continue precious traditions.

I believe that the music from the 70’s is the best.

I believe in prayer.

I believe that I carry my sister Christine with me everywhere I go.

I believe I learned my strong work ethic from my Dad.

I believe that all of my nephews and nieces are smart, beautiful and well loved.

I believe there is a comfy couch “up north” and that Mom, Dad and Christine can make room for anyone they want.

I believe that I can learn how to live a better life by paying close attention to my brothers and sisters.

I believe in public service.

I believe we all have a responsibility to help out those who are less fortunate.

I believe that the cup is half full.

I believe that friends are family.

love in an elevator.

What is it with elevators? They are in songs, featured as main characters in sitcoms, and the most anti-social small space to share with strangers. Today I rode in a few elevators and had the thought about how we can share such a close space and not even look someone in the eye--at all. I decided from now I would break that social norm and smile, make eye-contact and say a small hello (just like my friend Molly). For the better part of the day, this proved to make the trips up and down more enjoyable and less akward.

I had just seen my surgeon for the pre-op appointment and got all the nitty-gritty details and my inner- scientist questions answered. My head was spinning, but in a good way. I am ready! (Before going on, I should explain that the surgeon's office shares a wing with the Cancer Treatment Center at the hospital. Every time I go see him and am about to feel sorry for myself, I see those women and men and realize this ain't no thang.) As I was exiting and swirling in thought, a woman got on the elevator with me to go down to the lobby. She was the cancer patient I would want to be (if God forbid I ever had to be). She had a fabulous scarf covering her surely bald head and an amazing pair of dangly earrings--she looked beautiful. As she got on I totally had to compliment her scarf--it was gorgeous. So we had that brief elevator chat and then got quiet. And just as the doors had closed and the elevator began it's decent---SCREECH! CRANK! brakes. Yep, the elevator stopped.

Gorgeous Scarf (GS)looked at me, and asked did the elevator make that noise? Me: Yes, it's definately stopped. GS: Oh dear- should we call 911? Me: Um, I think we can call the elevator and they can give guidance. (So we called. They were sending help) Me looking at GS: "Um, seriously?" and cracking into a HUGE grin and just started laughing. We did not stop laughing for the full 45 minutes we were in the elevator.

She called her husband (he was downstairs) and offered to loan me her phone for my work call (I politely declined and thought this might be the best excuse to miss a call EVER!). We started to talk and just kept laughing at the situation we were in. Amoung the laughter, I leanred the CliffNotes version of her story. She is in her second round of chemo treatments for breast cancer. She is a mother of 2- 4-year-old twin boys that were born after her first diagnosis when she was 25. At 31, she is a mother and soon-to-be 2-time cancer survivor. Her name is Heather. And I spent an afternoon with her giggling in an elevator.

It was an everyday adventure. And today I learned that life can always be scarier than you think it is. That scary things really can bond you to someone else. And that laughter really does fix all things.

It was a good day. Who else would this happen to? Seriously.